Fetus Position
by midnightcas
Summary: During an incident with the Bestiary, Stiles end up as a baby. When everyone bails, it's up to Derek to look after him...and keep the secret from the Sheriff. Sterek x
1. Derek Has A Baby

Hey, here's just a quick opening for the story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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"What. The fuck. Am I supposed to do. With. This?" Derek snapped, thrusting something into Scott's arms.

Scott took it by default, confused and flustered. After juggling the heavy thing in his arms for a while, he held it out to get a better view of the thing.

"Derek...you have-," Scott instantly blushed red to his ears.

"Op, well it's not mine!" Derek cried, almost defensively.

"You can't just go around taking people's babies Derek!"

"Why the hell would I want someone's baby Isaac? I can barely take care of you."

"Well then what the HELL is this?" Jackson demanded.

They were all at Scott's door. They had been studying for finals Scott opened the door to a livid Derek. Now, his eyes were wavering between his raging red color and his still raging green.

"Okay, okay," Allison tried to reason, joining them at the door, "Who's baby is it?"

The alpha mumbled something, almost in embarrassment.

"Who's?"  
"Stiles."

Jackson snorted.

"Um, Derek," Scott began, inspecting the child in his hands, "I've known Stiles for pretty much all his life...and...he doesn't have a baby."

Derek growled angrily. He snatched the child from Scott's hands and held it out towards them.

"THIS...is Stiles."

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R&R x


	2. Anniversary

Heya! Sorry about this chapter, I just wanted a little background for the story. And I know that The Sheriff is really_, really _OOC, but it's how it all happened in my head. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! Hopefully there'll be more later today!

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"You can't hang on to her forever, Stiles."

The Sheriff's voice was low and his tone truthful, it was his words that had made him angry. It was a Sunday morning, and also 'the day.' This day, four years ago, Stiles's mother had died.  
Stiles had been confused when his uniformed father had come into his room to announce that he was leaving for work. He had planned to watch home movies and sift through old photos like they had done in the past, like they alway had done. When Stiles had protested, his father had said those words, stabbing Stiles in the heart, knocking the breath out of him. He immediately lost all motivation to fight back or even speak. He had just glared, tears of rage springing to his eyes, at his conflicted father. His father got the message, pity filling his eyes, and left. Stiles spent the rest of the day alone and in random fits of hysterics. He ignored Scott's calls and texts and even pretended he wasn't home when he had tried his house phone, but really, who even has a landline anymore? Stiles knew that Scott could sense him, he could have easily climbed into his window, or even walked right in the front door, crashing Stiles' day of being a depressed, self-pitying, emotional teenager. But he hadn't, and Stiles was grateful that he had recognized his need and want, to be alone. Stiles eventually drifted into a light, dreamless sleep, feeling better every time he drifted in and out of consciousness.

* * *

Scott had woken up in a cold sweat. From the moment he had opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. After a few moments of thinking, he remembered that it was that day. He frowned, already picking up Stiles' grievous scent. He sighed, walking down the stairs to his mother making breakfast. He was grateful that despite everything that had happened this past year, his mother would keep things as normal as they were before. She greeted him with a sad smile and a kiss on the forehead. She had been good friends with Mrs. Stilinski ever since he and Stiles had become friends.

"Make sure you call him today," Melissa said in a quiet voice.

"I know."

She sighed, "His dad went to work today."  
Scott just stared at his mother, "What?"

"Yeah...I think he's trying to help."

"HOW? By leaving him alone?"

"Scott, I think he's trying to show him how to get over it."

He shook his head, barely hearing his mother's voice. His eyes flashed golden as rage pulsed through his body.

"Scott-"  
"I know."

He spent the next few hours trying to get in touch with Stiles. He had called, texted, messaged, tweeted, left voicemails, everything. Melissa walked in to see him sitting at his desk in his room, his head in his hands.

"Still nothing?"

When he didn't answer, she continued, "Don't you have that study group today?"

Again, he didn't say anything, before he announced that he was going to see Stiles.

"Maybe he just needs space."

"It's Stiles, that's the last thing he ever needs."

"Scott-"  
"Mom, every year, he'll at least pick up the phone to say that he's alright." But today he's not alright, Scott added in his head, and he had the feeling that his mom knew exactly what he meant.

Her eyes crinkled, revealing her expression of worry, as if it were for her own son, "Okay...just be mindful."

Scott reached Stiles' house and got out of his mother's car. He could sense the negative aura and already knew the state he was in. He knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he was upset, but not surprised. He glanced around before climbing into his window. He quietly opened it. The room was dark, his light were off and his shades were drawn. Scott had struggled with them for a solid five minutes before safely getting inside. He sighed as he made his way over to the chair at Stiles' desk and observed the sleeping boy. The atmosphere was down, making the wolf in him want to whine out of impulse. Stiles's face was raw from crying and his eyelashes were wet. Seeing his normally cheery, sarcastic friend like this was deeply painful and was really irritating him. He wanted to wake him up, like the puppy-character that he knew Stiles's enjoyed, and offer to watch the movies and look at the pictures with him. He wanted to let him know that he would watch any movie with him, and that he was up for a good cry or a laugh or a memory, anything. But he also knew, more than anything, that Stiles needed the sleep he was harboring. He ran his hand through Stiles's hair gently before slipping from this room and safely landing on the ground. He got home, took a troubled shower and got ready. He reached Jackson's around four, only half an hour later than he had planned. But every minute was worth it. Seeing that Stiles was physically okay, helped at least settle some of his worry.

"Hey," Jackson had asked quietly, "What's up with Stilinski? His house smells like death."

"How-How did you-"

Jackson went red, "I-I," he grounded his teeth, "check up."

Scott sighed despite the warming feeling that he and Stiles being in a pack brought him, "It's the anniversary of his mother's death."

"Oh." That was the only thing that he could think of to say, it was the only thing that had seemed appropriate at the time.

"Yeah..."

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Jeez, my chapters are really short, sorry! I'll work on that. Thank you for reading!  
R&R x


	3. I'm not magica--

Hey again! It would really mean the world to me if you left some feedback/ suggestions in the reviews! I'd love to hear what you all think! Thanks so much! Hope you enjoy it!

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It had all begun when Derek had requested something from the Bestiary. When Stiles hadn't answered his text message, Derek had stormed over to his house and crawled in his window, interrupting his nap. He could sense the unnatural negative air around the boy, but chose to ignore it. Stiles had nearly fallen off his bed in surprise when Derek shook him awake, earning him a small smirk from the Alpha.

"Oh my God, what do you want?"

"I need your help."

"Did you, Mister Super-Alpha-Derek Hale, just ask for my help?"

"Yes."

"Well I'm sleeping. Try again tomorrow."

"Stiles, it's five in the afternoon."

"I'm sick."

"No you're not."

"Yeah I am."

"Stiles, I smell it if you're sick."

Soon their faces were centimeters apart, neither of them wavering a bit when Stiles grinned, "You smell me? That's attractive."

Derek pursed his lips together, searching his golden eyes before he pulled away.

"Seriously though," Stiles said, sitting down at his laptop, "I don't feel my best."

"Stiles, you're fine. You're just upset...about _something_. You're not sick. Let's go."

So after hours of searching, they finally found the chapters and sources they needed.

"Wizards Derek?" Stiles asked in disbelief, "Really?"

"What, Stiles? Do you think I can control whatever strange things come to your town?"

"My town?"

Derek answered him with silence, as he watched the boy flip through the pages.

"You were born first."

The Alpha froze when he heard the Sheriff pull into the driveway.

"What do you need to know? Derek?"

"You're Dad's here."

"What? Oh."

"I should go..."

"Oh no you shouldn't! We've been working for hour. You're going nowhere."

"But-"

"He won't even come up here," Stiles growled.

Sure enough, Derek tracked the man into the kitchen, and then into the living room.

"See?"

"Doesn't he normally come up here to check on you?"

"Not today," Stiles said in a low voice, and then raising it to scold him, "Get away from the closet!"

He was answered by silence.

"Because that doesn't make it look any less suspicious. Some big guy hiding in my closet, looking guilty. Statutory!"

"Shut up. What did you find anyways?"

"Just some spells really, nothing really about them. But I don't think Lydia translated it all. I'll ask her tomorrow. I mean we could always take it to Deaton later too."

"Where are they all anyway?"

"Urm, Jackson's having a study group today I think."

"So why aren't you there?"

"I told you. I'm not up to it today. I was going to sleep all day, until you showed your ugly mug."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"I made you better though."

"What?"

"You don't smell anymore."

"Oh, well yippee. Isn't that great."

Derek snorted.

Stiles looked backed down into the book, sighing in desperation.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I can't focus."

"Why not?"

"I didn't take my Adderall today."

"You have ADHD?"

"Yeah? That would be why I'm taking Adderall."

"You could have narcolepsy."

"Well if I'm taking it to focus-"

"Well why didn't you take it?"

"I wasn't planning on doing anything today."

"That doesn't mean you skip a dose!"

"Wha-"

"You have to take it now. Right? As soon as you remember?"

"How do you even know all this stuff anyway?"

"My brother used to have ADHD."

"Werewolves can get that?"

"Werewolves are people too."

"Are you sure? Because sometimes I highly doubt that."

If it had been anyone else, Derek would have gotten upset, but seeing that it was Stiles and that about 97% of his friends were werewolves, he let it go. Stiles began to read some of the words aloud.

"You probably shouldn't do that."

"Why? It's helping me concentrate."

"Well if you took your Adderall..."

"I don't have any left, anyways. My dad's supposed to pick it up on his way home from the night shift."

"Why don't you-you know if you overdose on that stuff-"

"Stop caring! You never care. I took an extra dose when me and Scott were looking up that stuff about the bank."

A curious feeling rose in Derek then. He wondered how much they had put him through regarding research, and the kid could barely sit still when having a normal conversation. He tried to imagine him sitting still for hours hunched over a book or staring at the screen, like he knew he did, despite his impulses. He would keep that in the back of his mind somewhere, and try to give him breaks as often as possible. He was going to thank him or maybe even apologize, but he never did.

"Let's see...oh here's a spell."

"Don't be stupid Stiles."

"It's in latin."

He began to speak in a wierd language that neither of them even understood.

"Stiles-"

"Proelia et didicit lectiones-"

"Stiles!"

"-Quidam amissis familiaribus et amicis aliquot meritus  
Non furtum inveniatur iuvenis  
A simili hoc est infernum tenetur theif  
Linguam et nunc in hoc sacro  
Vertimus terga hominem in hunc iuvenem!"

"Stiles!"

"See? Nothing happened. I'm not magica-"

Just then there was a cloud of dust that was rising from the book.

"Oh. My. God! Derek!"

"Stiles! What the hell did you do?"

Derek coughed as the dust reached his face. He shut his eyes and tried to fan the smoke whole room filled with a light grey smoke that was suffocating. He made his way over to the familiar window and opened it, letting the room air out. He was thankful that the over protective Sheriff didn't put a smoke alarm in his room, or they'd both be screwed.

As soon as the smoke settled, Derek called for Stiles.

"Stiles? Hey! Where the fuck are you? I swear if you-"

He stumbled over a pile of clothes, growling annoyedly.

"Stiles!"

He looked down to see that it was the sweatshirt that Stiles had been wearing only minutes earlier.

"Stiles?!"

Just then, there was a horrific noise from behind him.

"Stiles?"

He looked at the door frame to see nothing, but dropped his gaze down to see something. He gaped, not even caring how he looked. There, in the middle of Stiles' room, sat a butt naked baby.

"Fuck."

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Welp, I might have to up the rating...thanks for reading!  
R&R  
Much love x


	4. How 'bout you? With them eyes?

"Stiles?"

At the sound of his husky voice, the baby looked up. It began to bounce happily as it let out a scream.

"A-a-ah!"

"No, no, no, no, no! Stop! Shh!" Derek begged as he ran towards it.

The baby snorted as if laughing at the, now frantic, werewolf. Derek blushed, remembering that the child was still stark naked. He desperately looked around Stiles' room for some sort of clothing. But why Stiles would have clothes for an infant, Derek couldn't be sure. He sighed, looking at the baby exploring its own toes.

"Um...stay here?"

He was at a total loss. He hadn't been around a baby since Cora had been born, and that had been obvious years ago. He remembered how his mother had kept some of their baby clothes, despite their ages. Laura had been the most bothered by it. Always asking them why they had them and trying to get rid of them. So, Derek quietly ventured into the Sheriff's room, awkwardly looking in his closet. He hoped that Stiles or his father wouldn't walk in on him and think something of it. He then sighed, wondering where Stiles had gone to. He'd know what to do better than Derek would.

The Sheriff's room was neat and orderly, as if he never stepped foot in there. It occurred to Derek, that he probably didn't all that often. Especially lately.

Derek looked around once more, having no luck in the closet. The one thing that drew him closer was a picture of a beautiful woman with honey eyes on the Sheriff's dresser. She had soft features and long, flowing brown hair. After further observance, Derek noticed her eyes again. She had Stiles' eyes.

He sighed as his own visions of his mother and family flashed through his head. Derek shut his eyes before he opened the dresser. Inside there were boxes that were all covered in a decent layer of dust…all except for one labeled 'Stiles.' He silently hoped that it wasn't anything taboo as he slid it from it's spot amongst the other boxes. He placed it on the bed and reached inside. There were photo albums, mostly of Scott and Stiles from elementary school, a lacrosse trophy from 2002, a few toys and other small objects as well. He was over come by relief, however, when he grabbed onto something soft. He pulled out a small blanket accompanied by a bag.

"Thank God."

Inside, was a white onesie, a grey zip up hoody and a pair of darker grey pants. He packed the other things back into the box neatly and returned it to it's spot. He carried the blanket and clothes towards Stiles' room, relieved to hear the Sheriff's heavy and regular breathing from downstairs. He wandered into the room to see the baby on its back with it's feet in the air.

"Okay, Baby. Let's get you dressed and find Stiles."

After several moments of struggling, pouting, screaming and a partial wolf out (resulting in some tears), Derek gets him dressed.

"I don't have any diapers, so don't pee yourself."

The baby smacked the floor happily until he sees Derek looking at him. He stopped unsurely, shying away in fear. Derek could sense the confusion coming off of him. He studies the child for a bit longer, until it eventually looks back. Derek nearly jumped in response to his revelation. Those eyes…they were Stiles'.

Derek rolled his eyes as he uttered the only words that came to mind, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

* * *

He held Stiles uncomfortably, carrying him with extended arm, a good distance away from himself. The baby—_Stiles_ seemed annoyed with him, as he dangled in front of the Alpha. He climbed out the window and grumbled as his feet hit the ground safely.

He silently thanked what ever mysterious superior power had been at work the day he bought the Toyota instead of the motorcycle he had planned on getting. Buckling the squirming baby to the best of his ability, he started towards the only place he could think of going: Scott's.

"Hello," Melissa answered the door.

Her friendly gazed dropped as she saw that it was Derek.

"Is everything okay?" She asked in sudden worry.

"Um, yeah..." Derek answered, pulling in his eyebrows, "Is Scott here?"

"Actually he's at Jackson's. Can I help you with something?"

"Um, no. It's alright."

"Okay…uh, Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"You have a…_baby_? I honestly would have never—"

Derek pursed his lips before grumbling, "Not mine," before talking off.

He let a growl of frustration pass through his lips as he walked away, shoving the baby—_Stiles_, back into the car.


End file.
